


Choice, Pride and Trust

by CrackingLamb



Series: Til It Squeaks: A Modern Girl's Take on Thedas [3]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Modern Girl in Thedas, Stand Alone, but part of the Twist universe, he's hot-headed and angry, hints of dark!Solas, mentions of Masked Empire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:02:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25923283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrackingLamb/pseuds/CrackingLamb
Summary: Facing the unified might of the Inquisitor and the Dread Wolf at Suledin Keep, this Forbidden One finds he has no choices at all.
Relationships: Female Lavellan/Solas
Series: Til It Squeaks: A Modern Girl's Take on Thedas [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1830358
Comments: 6
Kudos: 39





	Choice, Pride and Trust

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally going to be a snippet for The Cutting Room Floor...then it got too long. I've written it in a way so it stands alone, I hope. This takes place after the siege of Adamant Fortress.

Carly watched Michel de Chevin wander back into the confines of Sahrnia and sighed. She'd known as soon as they reached Emprise du Lion that this was going to loom on her horizon. As well as bring a fairly major amount of history for Solas to the present. He turned to her where he was standing. Thankfully it was just the two of them, the others having already gone back to the camp to set up for the night. She waited for him to speak and wondered if he might actually just say what was on his mind instead of dancing around the topic in his usual fashion. His look turned sardonic as he caught that thought in her head, their ever present connection because of the Anchor as strong as always. He then gave her a conciliatory nod, conceding the point without arguing.

“Imshael.” It wasn't a question, more a resigned request for clarification.

“Yes, ma fen. You heard that right.”

“How?”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “You really wanna go there? Or do you _not_ need me to explain exactly how that entire novel's worth of a shitshow went down while you were sleeping?” He frowned at her. She knew he didn't like being reminded of Felassan, but she held her ground.

“It was necessary at the time,” he said finally.

“Sure,” she said blithely. “Getting the keystone was essential to your plans, I get that. The rest of it? Pretty cruel collateral damage, if you ask me. But then again, you weren't planning to make it stick, were you?”

His gaze sharpened on her. “Irreverence on this matter does not become you, vhenan.”

She sighed, exasperated. They should be beyond this, by now. “I could shoot you full of arrows if it would make you feel better. Me being angry about your past actions won't change them. I said it before, ma fen. I know what lurks under your skin, and I know he isn't as pretty as this face. Just because I have convinced you to do it another way doesn't mean I am not fully aware of what the original plan entailed.”

It took a while, but slowly he let go of the tension in his stance and his face became smoother, less riled up by her _irreverence_ that he allowed an entire Dalish clan to be wiped out to further his own ends. And that he used an agent who ultimately betrayed him to do it. Idly, she wondered if Felassan was still out there somewhere, Tranquil but alive. It was certainly possible. Something to think about at a later date, she decided. She didn't currently have the time to discuss with her lover how he might feel about that.

She shook her head and got herself back on track. “We need to figure out how to deal with this. Imshael wants chaos, and he's enabling Corypheus. I have enough on my plate, thanks. I can kill him or you can banish him. Pick one.”

“And those are the only options?”

“Yes.” She snorted. “Not like I'm gonna make a deal with him. I already know how _that_ ends up. Emprise du Lion is a strategic point between Skyhold and everything westward. I need to take Suledin Keep from him so the Inquisition can set up shop there. This isn't your girlfriend speaking, this is the Inquisitor, making a military decision.”

“He has taken Suledin Keep?” The register of his voice dropped, low and growling. She didn't miss the significance. Whatever memories that place held for him – and she knew it must, the wolf statues made that obvious – they weren't necessarily good ones. But that didn't mean he wanted the place in the hands of a demon he himself had basically empowered.

“Yes,” she answered. The look on his face was now rather murderous. It was a bit...distracting. When he faced her again, it was still there, lurking in the shadows. _The Wolf has come out to play,_ she thought. He caught that and smiled darkly. Her breath stopped in her throat. It wasn't often he let her see this side of him. She suddenly didn't feel the cold anymore and her pulse jumped. She bit her lip and hoped he wasn't still dipping into her thoughts.

“We cannot leave him idle,” Solas said smoothly, as if she wasn't slowly unraveling into a puddle of lust next to him. “He will only possess someone again and continue his tricks. There is no harm in listening to what he has to say for himself, I suppose...”

“But trust is another matter,” she finished, smirking. Some things really were like the game. “All right. You, me and who else?”

“Cassandra and Varric. She cannot be influenced and he has no connection to the Fade. Imshael will not concern himself with trying to tempt either of them.”

“Are you planning to speak with him first?”

“Yes.”

“I'll hold them back. No sense in letting them catch _any_ wind of you being Fen'Harel. Or how much history you have with him.”

“That is advisable. Thank you.”

“I meant what I said, Solas. I'm not going to betray your identity to anyone.”

“I know, vhenan.” He gave her a gentle smile and tucked a flyaway lock of hair behind her ear.

“It bears repeating, though. From time to time.”

He tucked her under his arm and led her back to their camp so their plans could be made.

***

When they finally fought their way through the Red Templars guarding the ancient place, Carly followed Solas into the keep, letting the other two deal with the giant's remains and the straggling Templars that were left. The 'choice spirit' was waiting for them in a snowy courtyard, his face smug and condescending until he caught sight of Solas. The condescension faded, leaving behind a trickster's gleam. Carly wondered if he was hoping to turn things to his advantage because she wasn't supposed to know anything. More the fool, he. She knew _everything_.

“Inquisitor, greetings!” He spoke brightly, but Carly hadn't missed the tremor in his voice. Solas marched across the courtyard, every muscle tense and taut like the day they released Wisdom from her suffering.

“What are you doing here, Imshael?” he asked, his voice pitched too low to carry. There was a growl behind it. So much for hearing him out. Well, that wasn't surprising after the horrors they'd just witnessed.

“I am offering choices. As is my wont.”

Solas got in his face, so close the demon could probably tell what they'd had for lunch. “Here is a choice for you, Forbidden One. Leave or die.”

“You are not the one in charge here, are you?” There was a bit of a challenge there, probing to see how far he could push things. Carly decided to do a little pushing of her own. Imshael didn't need to know it wasn't exactly the truth.

“Oh no,” she said cheerfully. “He is. I'm just the frontman.”

“You took a _mortal_ into your confidence, my lord?” Imshael asked, evidently shocked enough by her assertion that he forgot himself. _Score_.

“You will not be present long enough for answers to be necessary. Make your choice.”

“You wound me, my lord.”

Solas took Imshael's collar in his grip, bringing them closer still. Carly saw red bleed into the corners of his eyes. She never thought she'd see the day he lost his cool so completely where others might see it. Then again, with the amount of red lyrium around, it had to be hard to hold on to his sanity. _She_ could feel the buzzing of it in her head, and she wasn't even a mage.

“Careful, ma fen.”

The demon looked at her, his face bloodless with terror but crafty. “A term of endearment! How jolly! This gets better and better!”

 _Shit_ , she thought. Solas spared her a glance before focusing back on the demon and she resolved to just keep her mouth shut.

“Make your decision, Imshael.”

“You are the bigger thing coming, are you not?” the demon asked, his eyes lighting up again. “Other agents have failed you, but I will not. How may I serve?”

“You may not.”

“Come, now, Fen'Harel. Surely there is something we can negotiate...”

“We will not. You will either leave this place, return to the Fade and stay there. Or you will die. By my hand or hers.”

“Or hers? You have grown soft, old wolf. I...”

He didn't get to finish. And Carly didn't exactly see what Solas did, for all that she was standing right there. One moment the demon's human host was clutched tightly by his collar, the next, his head exploded in a spurt of blood, bone and brain matter. She flinched back but was still sprayed with gore. Like a reflex, she flipped backwards and drew her bow, knowing the first form Imshael would take would be fear. As long as she stayed far enough away, she'd be fine from his terrorizing influence.

Varric and Cass came running, weapons already drawn as soon as they heard the telling splat of blood. Around and around the courtyard they fought the Forbidden One, through all his myriad shifts from fear, to rage and finally to pride. Carly used the terrain to her advantage, snaking between columns, climbing the statues in the corners to keep out of his path. Varric took a hard hit and went flying and Cass's shield broke right in half before she too was tossed across the battlefield to lay slumped.

But Solas was relentless, even though he'd been burned across the face. It distorted his features, making him look far more dangerous than he usually did. He stalked the demon around the courtyard, his focus never wavering, his bombardment of spells never stopping. Until he simply ran out of energy to keep up the constant battle. Anger could only be sustained so long, and his mana was not endless. Imshael laughed wetly, his body shaking with it even as it bled from multiple wounds. It seemed she had been forgotten in this contest of wills.

She circled around and loaded an explosive arrow and aimed carefully, drawing the bow back as far as she could. The shot hit Imshael in the chest, the broadest target. It sank between the armored plates of pectoral tissue on the pride form and she counted off the seconds before it exploded. The demon went down to a knee and she raced across the courtyard past Solas, already loading up another shot.

“Wolves travel in packs, Imshael,” she gasped breathlessly as she faced him. “One would think you'd know that by now.”

“He will be the death of you, mortal,” the demon snarled at her. His breath rattled; they both knew she had won the killing blow. “He will use you as he has used all the others. Take your shot and know yourself to be nothing more than the tool in his hand. This is your choice.”

She drew back, point blank range, no way to miss. “I'm aware. Enjoy the Abyss.”

She loosed the arrow between the sets of eyes, sinking it deep. Imshael groaned and toppled over before disintegrating into Fade goop. She sank to her knees and just breathed. She heard Solas speak softly to Cassandra as he helped her to her feet and then heard them both help Varric. She stayed where she was, just staring at the powerful relic that had dropped from the body before it disappeared.

 _Know yourself to be nothing more than the tool in his hand_.

No, she wasn't just that. She was the line in the sand.

Eventually, she felt a hand on her shoulder. There had been no sound of footsteps and she knew it was Solas. He held a steaming cup in front of her and she took it without looking at him. How long had she been sitting there anyway if he had brewed up something hot? “Sorry about...before. It just slipped out.”

His fingers tightened on her for a moment, then he let go and came around to where she could see him. He crouched down so they were eye to eye. “Are you all right, vhenan?”

“Yeah. Just thinking about something he said. You?” She looked at him as she drank the hot concoction he'd handed her. _Regen and mulling spices_ , she thought. Weird combo, but it tasted all right. His face was healed, not even a smudge of soot remaining. He'd wiped off the blood too, from when the host's body died. No trace of the wrath he'd unleashed was left. He just looked...resolute.

“You are not a vulnerability or a means to an end,” he said. “You are my strength. Do not ever doubt that.”

“I don't.”

“Good.”

She paused with the cup halfway to her lips, a comment on the back of her tongue that she knew she shouldn't say out loud with the others there. _You let me see it, the darker side. The Bringer of Nightmares_.

He nodded, weary and almost penitent. Did he regret letting her see it? She knew it was there, what did seeing it change? It occurred to her that Solas had no idea how much that darkness could appeal. It was visceral and elemental and every bit as much a part of him as all the rest that she loved.

“It was kinda hot,” she said aloud. “And by kinda, I mean a lot. I might have to jump you later.”

He snorted and shook his head in apparent disbelief. “Ar lath ma,” he said on a laughing sigh. “Strange little Dalish.”

She grinned at him, and leaned across the space between them to lay a kiss on his lips. “Ar lath ma.”

He got up and held out his hand. She took it and kept herself still as pins and needles shot through her legs. The cold was deepening as the day waned and they still had a lot of work to do to get the keep ready for Inquisition forces to arrive. But this part was laid to rest.

They were fine.


End file.
